


Sansa´s Mask

by LittleCligane



Category: Sandor and Sansa - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Devotion, F/M, Marriage, Protective Sandor Clegane, Romance, Sandor and Sansa are friends, Sandor is kinda a dick but also a teddybear, Sansa is a warrior in disguise, Sansa is looking for love, Sansa is smarter than she looks, Sansa leaves with Sandor, Sexual Tension, Sweet fluffiness, eventual smutt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleCligane/pseuds/LittleCligane
Summary: Sansa is tired of being abused and is searching for an allie to leave her guilded cage. Could she be successful?





	1. Sansa´s Mask

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steampunk_Seahorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Seahorse/gifts).



> ohh boy...this is my first attempt on a SanSan Fanfic...please bear with me. English is not my fist language, i apologize for the posibility of grammar errors you find while reading. Happy readings...and I hope this story to be of your liking. Comments and suggestions are really appreciated.  
> All characters belong to the master mind of Mr. Martin. I'm just an amateur fanfic writer.

She is so tired...

Tired of pretending, tired of wearing the mask of courtesy every day since her arrival to Kingslanding. What has it served her for??? The courtesies didn´t prevent his father execution. Courtesy has only given her loneliness. Where´s mother, Robb? What will become of Bran and little Rickon?...but the doubt that hurts her the most is not knowing anything about her little sister.

Every day the same routine...

To awake, to bathe, to wear the prettiest dress as her armour and praying to the gods for a day without humiliation by Joffrey and the complacent silence of the court.

Every night she goes to bed with a new bruise on her skin to cover, her spirit hurt and only Shae to give her some comfort. Even so...all her thoughts must remain well hidden behind her mask of courtesy. She is so afraid of her mind betraying her. Sansa feels so tired, but still, deep down in her heart, the hope of being able to fly away from this damn cage refuses to go extinct.

Another restless night, in her bedchamber, fumbling endlessly in her bed. Sansa thinks, thinks…How to achieve her escape??? There are no true connections with someone who can give her protection or advice. Search, Sansa, search... I will not stop searching. But who?? Lord Tyrion?? No...He’s a Lannister and he's not risking his brother's chance to return alive to Kingslanding. Lord Varys?? Maybe…but it looks like handling a two-edged weapon. Lord Baelish then???... ughhh no…just thinking about it gives me chills. I detest how he always approaches me.

The night passes in a blink. She feels so fatigued ... she has not been able to rest. However, with a fixed idea in her mind, to seek help, tiredness finally dives her into the darkness.

She decides to fix her appearance with a little more detail, asks Shae for the pink silk dress that goes with her skin so well and asks her to comb her auburn hair in a medium bun, dropping the rest of her hair in a cascade of curls. Sansa knows well that Joffrey is pleased to see her hair combed in this way. She asks Shae to knot her corset tighter, so her cleavage looks more provocative. To finish...a touch of her favourite scented oil on her wrists and neck. Maybe just maybe, today she is able to avoid some torment.

After all, today is Joffrey's birthday. Time is running out ... soon he will marry her and the torture will be permanent. Despite her attempts to remain behind her façade, the game of courtesy proves her to be dangerous. A moment of weakness has gotten her in trouble...

She cannot avoid her thoughts to be keep in line, and mumbles out the courtesies long time engraved to her memory to save a poor knight fallen out of grace because of the alcohol from Joffrey's temper. Strangely, Joffrey's own swornshield has freed her from some attempt at humiliation. The Hound, as everyone dares to call him...so sullen, silent and indecipherable. Why now? He always keeps himself out of her sphere. Almost like a shadow attached to Joffrey´s whims. And suddenly it comes to her mind ... will it be possible, from all the people, that he could be her ally? That night, she goes to bed thanking the gods for one more day without suffering abuse.

The weeks go by and her desperation grows ... she has been beaten and humiliated to the limit of her strength. She is almost naked before everyone in the throne hall. Joffrey punishes her for the news about Robb´s latest victory. She sobs, screams for help...anybody?? She tries to cover her body with her hands...but it is useless. Sansa can only close her eyes praying for this moment to end, she thinks to herself-let the moment end, let it be now for him to put an end to my suffering, so I could join Father and Lady!. Between all the laughter...she swears she imagines someone yelling… ENOUGH!!!

Suddenly the Throne hall´s door opens behind her...hurried steps and Tyrion's voice demanding a halt to her torture. Everything clouds around her, a shadow covers her and the sensation over her skin of a rough spun cotton cloak covering her nakedness. For a second, the glint of hard grey eyes watching her full of sadness. When she reacts...she is already in her bedchamber still wrapped with the white cloak of rough cotton. _Rough cotton that feels softer than velvet._ Shae tenderly removes her hair from her forehead and refreshes her with a damp cloth, while other handmaidens silently prepare a warm bath to comfort her.

Sansa loses the sense of time...everything used to be a routine for her...wake up, get dressed, try to eat and pray for a day without getting abused. Now she notices a pair of grey eyes that follow her almost everywhere even in her dreams.

The days pass on after another blurring together, Myrcella must leave to Dorne and Sansa is forced to participate in the farewell entourage. After all, the farce of her betrothal to the king still stands. The atmosphere feels tense ... the ovations soon turn into insults, the insults to shoves, and suddenly everything is out of control around her. Everything passes in front of her so fast ... desperate screams, her raw throat screaming for help, hands pulling her, cornering her, touching her. She fights ... she struggles with all her strength to stay on her feet, to take their hands off her ... but it is useless, they are stronger than her and she feels that little by little her strength is leaving her. A voice with sour breath tells so close to her ear that they are going to enjoy so much fucking her tight highborn cunt... that there will be no trace of her after they finish fucking her.

Suddenly, everything stops...in front of her again the pair of grey eyes, strong hands lifting her, protecting her virtue, for once she is grateful for it, taking her back to her cage. That night in the silence of her bedchamber, between nightmares only the flash of grey eyes manage to calm the horrors playing in her mind. Those grey eyes make her feel safe.

After the riot Sansa is almost forgotten in the throne hall, giving her time to recover from the shock and letting her mind to wander in her thoughts, always ending up thinking of those eyes. Little by little she stops feeling scared of scars, the need of seeing him, to feel his presence near her grows stronger as the days pass by. A slight blush covers her cheeks as she remembers his hands on her skin. She finds him on route to the serpentine staircase near her bedchamber. She manages to gather all the courage in her to speak to him without losing her breath and to hold his gaze. Her heart speeds up and her mind hurriedly searches for the right words to get his attention.

-I beg your pardon Ser. Sansa says to stop him for a moment. I should have come to you after to thank you for saving me…you were so brave.

With a cold grimace, words full of sarcasm and an ice gaze The Hound just blunts at Sansa.

-Brave…a dog doesn´t need courage to chase off rats.

Sansa doesn´t understand why he is always angry at her, mindlessly words pour out of her…

-Does it give you joy to scare people? Thinking of herself feeling scared and attracted to him like a magnet.

Exasperated by her words, The Hound walks back to her trying to impose his frame on the Littlebird.

-No…it gives me joy to kill people. Spare me you not telling me Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell never killed a man.

How he dares to bring up his father as a killer??? Sansa´s mind goes into a whirl and tells him that it was her father´s duty. His father never liked.

-It´s that what he told you? He lied…Killing is the sweetest thing there is.

-Why are you always so hateful?? Sansa tries to remain calm over his rudeness. But it is useless…it angers him even more.

-You´ll be glad of the hateful things I´ll do someday when you´re Queen and I´m all that stands between you and your _beloved_ king.

Feeling no longer capable of standing his hateful gaze while trying to keep her tears from falling, silently leaves the hallway. She desperately needs to go away to recover her composure from his hurtful words.

Sansa returns to her chambers with a heart heavy with sadness. Why does she feel so hurt? What has she done to receive such rudeness from him? She has learned to cope with the cruelty of others ... but why does his cruel words affect her so much? Despite the feeling of anxiety, Sansa goes to bed thinking of how to approach him again.

Next morning she wakes up feeling sored and with a strange wet feeling between her legs... Oh Gods no...Not now please!!! Her first moonblood is upon her… Gods! Shae enters her room to find her shaking and eyes flooded by tears. With sweet words she assures her that nobody will notice. In a hurry, Shae tries to search for a clean change of bed sheets and nightshift for Sansa. They are so absorbed trying to conceal the stained bed sheets that are taken by surprise when they realize the open door of Sansa´s chamber and The Hound standing there aware of what just had happened. Sansa cannot bear the humiliation, the sight of her kneeling on her bed with her nightshift covered in blood. The Hound walks into her chamber silent as ever, closes and barns the door, passing a shocked Shae and kneels in front of Sansa. Tenderly wipes off Sansa´s tears and hushes her sobs. With utmost care starts to clean her hands with a cloth he takes from his breastplate. Trying to keep his husky voice as low as possible, he says:

\- It´s alright Littlebird, you´ll be alright. No one will know about this. I promise no one will.

Turning to Shae he asks the maid to take the Littlebird behind her dressing blinds and to help her change into a clean shift. While Shae is taking care of Sansa´s clothing, The Hound swiftly removes the stained bed sheets and throws them into the fire heart of Sansa´s chamber. After watching Sansa being taken care of, silently he leaves the chambers. Sansa knows Shae truly cares for her, however, she is also aware that Shae is Tyrion´s eyes. She is utterly bewildered by The Hounds actions. Confusion clouds her thoughts…she does not understand him. As him being a different person. One minute full of tenderness and the next full of anger. Silently she prays to the gods for her secret to keep safe.

Sansa manages to keep a low profile for the remaining days that take her through her moonblood. She is able to remain in her chambers with Shae as her companion or gathering with other maidens for sewing circles. During those days, The Hound remains out of her sight. Unknown to the sewing circle companions, she manages to steal away some little pieces of silk and coloured thread, thinking of a black hound and a small red bird. It is during the night, that little by little she embroiders in the silence of her bedchamber. For days she keeps the handkerchief hidden in her bodice, waiting for an excuse, the precise moment to give it to him. Anticipation fills her.

Rumours about Stannis Baratheon's troops approaching King's Landing to lay a siege are widespread by the handmaidens and servants around the holdfast. Sansa knows her position in court is increasingly precarious and she's afraid of not being able to see him if she is taken away as a trophy if Stannis´s army succeeds with the siege. Sansa´s heart cannot contain the growing feelings she´s nurturing for him. She doesn’t even know how to call him…no Ser, no My Lord.

Referring him as a Hound sounds to her so disrespectful; after all he is the bravest and strongest man she knows. She longs to call him by his name…Sandor. So enthralled by her thoughts, she doesn't realize Shae has been watching her with a confused look for a while. Blushing for the embarrassment, finally pours out to Shae her hidden feelings towards The Hound…no not a Hound, she refuses to call him that. Shae looks shocked by her revelations but keeps quiet and does not judge Sansa for her feelings towards The Hound. Shae tells Sansa that one’s hearts chooses its beloved above logic or common sense. Feeling emboldened by Sansa, Shae opens her heart and shares with her the true of her forbidden liaison with Lord Tyrion. 

It has been almost a week without a chance of seeing him. Almost like he turned a ghost. She only finds solace during her strolls to the Godswood. During one of those strolls, she hears some servants talking about the Holdfast guarding shifts. Ser Meryn Trant taking the first shift and The Hound taking charge of the second shift. Giving Sansa an opportunity to walk straight to him if she decides to go the Godswood. Asking Shae to deliver him a small note proves to be a hard task to do, but finally Shae agrees to help her. It has to be this afternoon; the timing is almost perfect because his shift of guarding Joffrey ends today.

Her lesson with Maester Luwin memorizing House sigils and colours proves helpful to Sansa. House Clegane yellow is like the yellow Jonquil daffodils her mother likes so much. A remembrance of Catelyn´s youth spend near the riverbanks of Riverrun. She carefully brings out of her trunk a light yellow silk tunic. Perhaps he will get the hint. Shae is afraid of her going alone, not even sure if he will show. Shae asks Sansa to accompany her, but she needs to see him alone. Reluctantly Shae remains behind.

She walks with hurried steps, as if preventing someone from stopping her and robbing her of this small window of opportunity given by the almost forgotten cloister of trees from the Godswood. Stifled by the walk Sansa sits on one of the benches under the shade of an oak, trying to catch her breath and to keep nervousness at bay. Would he come?

The sound of footsteps takes her out of her stupor...again grey eyes looking at her deeply. It's now or never, she thinks...

-Excuse me Ser...if I may...I would like a word with you.

-There´s no need to send me a note with your handmaiden, Littlebird. 

-I would like to thank you for all you have done for me.

She only receives as an answer an exasperated snort and surprised look. Silently and turning around to cover herself, she removes from her bodice the handkerchief that she has worn as a second skin. Stretching her hands towards his, Sansa tries to hand it over the small token of silk.

-The fuck is this??- He replies while snapping from her hands the little piece of fabric. Sansa´s face turns pale of his reactions. Her strength draining out of her instantly. He has been drinking.

-I..I…just wanted to thank you Ser.

-Quit your chirping Littlebird and speak straight to the point. What makes you think I need a shitty piece of fabric from you?

-As I said before Ser…I was trying to thank you for all you have done for me.

-How many times do I have to tell you I´m no Ser!!!!

Sansa feels how the air escapes from her chest. And hardly manages to whisper…

-I was hoping you would be able to rescue me from this entire nightmare.

Instantly a pair of strong hands clasped her by her arms and manages to keep her standing face to face with him. Hissing to her ear, he says:

-Do you expect of me to become a turncloak to the king?? Just for a shitty piece of fabric???? All of you pretty highborn cunts are the same. Empty-headed birds full of stupid song of valiant knights rescuing maidens in distress. You´re really mistaken Littlebird….I am no knight.

-If you think you could tempt me over this piece of shit…you´re really empty-headed. Saying this he takes her closer to him. She feels his hot breath on her neck and the smell of strong wine from his mouth.

-There´s only one way you could temp me enough to get you out of this shit…the question is would you bare the price Littlebird? -Leering at her.

A mix of anger, pain or sheer desperation grabs hold of Sansa. She fights for getting released from his grasp….but he proves to be stronger than her…always stronger than her. She slowly regains her senses and in a strange rush of strength manages to look directly to his eyes…

-I am sorry Ser…I am truly sorry for being an empty-headed Littlebird as you call me. No more than a nuisance for you to yell at. I promise you Ser…I will keep my presence away from you then. I can go through the king´s mockery and I will keep my head up beating after beating from the so called kingsguard. But not from you….I cannot bear it from you. Because all your harsh words and mockery of me will mean the loss of all hope I try to keep within my heart…the dead of a piece of my soul.

-Believe me Ser…I have tried to cope with this feeling, I have tried to get rid of it…maybe I am after all a stupid bird who longs for you, despite all your harsh words, snorts and hatred gazes coming from you. I promise you _Ser_ not to disturb you any longer. Giving him a last hurtful glare…Sansa finally manages to release herself from his hard hands, spins over her heels trying to leave as fast as she can from the Godswood. Leaving a Hound nailed to the roots of the old oak.


	2. The Hound´s Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor is left behind in the Godswood....  
> Sorry for the small chapter...happy readings!!!   
> Hope you enjoy the ride!!!  
> All Characters belong to the mastermind of Mr.Martin

_-Fuck…fuck...fuck…._ Sandor keeps grunting at himself.

_-What the fuck just happened????_ Throwing away the wineskin. Damned wine…I better stop drinking it. Sandor cannot get out of his stupor….fighting to get a hold of his mind. He leaves the Godswood…he needs to process what just happened there. 

With long strides he reaches Stranger´s stable box, the only place able to give him a sort of peace to think. Brushing Stranger´s mane gives him time to cool his mind off, to sober up and reflect the encounter with the Littlebird. He remembers the soft piece of fabric she wholeheartedly tried to give him stuffed unceremoniously under his breastplate. He doesn't want to soil it with his dirty hands. He must finish grooming Stranger to be able to give a close look at the fabric. It appears to take ages for him to finish taking care of Stranger. Leaving behind his horse stable, Sandor goes to the Kings guard garrison tower to bathe and to get a clean set of tunic and breeches, after all is his day off. He grunts and glares to everyone who has the ill luck to go into his way to his chamber. He's starting to feel a buzzing inside his head. 

- _I need a fucking drink…_

Then he remembers…no, not wine for today. His chamber reflects like a mirror his personality, austerity and order. A large framed straw pallet, a sturdy chair and table all the furniture to display. His polished armour and long swords are displayed in the corner of his chamber. He just let himself sink into the pallet and cover his face with both hands. Curiosity works in strange manners. Suddenly he takes from one of his pockets the smooth piece of fabric he snapped from the Littlebird hands, carefully unfolding it. His eyes widen up at the image embroidered into the piece of silk. An almost peaceful black hound with silver eyes and a red little bird with blue eyes. His memory is fighting to replay all _. Was she wearing a yellow tunic? Why would she wear his fucking colours?_ Like a water dam being broken everything said by her flooded him. He remembers her professing her love for him despite his harsh manners…did she say it or is his imagination playing foul on him?

- _Fuck…fuck…fuck…_

From all the nightmares he suffers, this is the worse. What sort of trick life is playing to him??? Is she trying to make a fool of him?? And then it hits him like a smack in his face…she asked him for his help, saying straight to his face that she loves him and he dared to make a lewd suggestion to her??? Placing her at the same lever to a common lap wench??

- _Buggering idiot…you´re really are the worst of all._ Mocking her feelings, hurting her even more that the stupid golden prick of King and all his kings guards together. Wait...wait…wait…she said she loves me. Me?? Scarred, drunkard old dog. Do I care for her??? Almost like his mind answering to him out loud… _No stupid cunt, you don’t care about her…you love her!!!_ You always have…that’s what makes you being harsh on her. She is so above of your station. The fucking King´s betrothed. And she thinks of you, sees you as her saviour. She chooses you from all the fucking bunch of so called knights flocking the Red Keep.

Sandor´s mind cannot stop thinking of all she said…her last words before running away from him. He pushed her away like the beast he is. All this thinking is draining him out of control. He needs to find her, to let her know he feels the same for her, to ask for her forgiveness. After all, he has no idea what love is or what is supposed to be. If what he feels is right, if this is what love is supposed to feel, he is confused about love. All his life has been filled with his hate and rage leaving a gap and emptiness he's filled with bitter wine and cheap whores. He doesn't know how a pure being as her could feel something for him. He is just a scarred dog. The realization of his love, the fatigue after warring against his other self leaves Sandor exhausted and drifts him to a restless sleep.


	3. Sansa´s Mask II

Shae returns to Sansa´s chambers carrying a dinner tray. It has been days since the King hasn’t ask for her presence during his meals. The sight of Sansa nearly makes Shae to throw the tray to the floor. Sansa´s silhouette is only able to be seen by the dim moonlight flowing by the balcony. Eyes closed, tear stained cheeks and her hair in total disarray. -Gods, my Lady…what happened?? Please talk to your Shae. Did that beast of man dare to touch you??? By the seven hells I will make him pay. My lady, please…Just silence.

Days passed by like running water, Shae is really concerned of Sansa´s wellbeing. She barely eats, barely speaks…almost like a living corpse. She has tried to lure her to speak. But it has been futile. A knock on the door brings her out of her thoughts.

-Lady Sansa…Lady Sansa…the King commands your presence in the throne hall. Shae slowly opens the door to Ser Meryn Trant. 

-I am sorry my Lord, Lady Sansa feels unwell. Would the King be so kind to spare her presence just for today to let her regain her health.

-Stupid wench…you better drag her out of bed and get her ready in no time if you cherish your skin, he hissed at her. Shae tries hard to make Sansa look as neat as she can. Really tries to get her into common sense to avoid a punishment from the king. 

-Please my Lady, gather your strength, if you are not ready to tell your Shae what is making you suffer so much I would not talk of it again. Please my Lady…you need to put on your mask of courtesy again. Is a matter of life or death. 

Something hidden in Sansa snapped her out of her self-cloistered state. Straightening her back, pulling her face to a void pose Sansa raises from her bed and goes directly to her vanity.

-You are right Shae…I almost forgot I am a wolf. I need to be strong to survive. Tell Ser Meryn, I will follow his lead to the Throne Hall. If the Kings is amused to his fill and I am able to avoid an unfair punishment I will tell you Shae…I will tell you what happened in the Godswood.

***************************************************************

Joffrey is seating in the Iron Throne, amused by mocking a flock of commoners asking for his aid. As always, to his side, imposing The Hound stands his guard. -My beautiful Lady Sansa…..what has kept you away of my kingly presence?? I have heard you have been feeling unwell….Isn´t your King providing you of enough fineries to make you happy?? Sansa hides her repulsion very well and poses her most charming smile to Joffrey. 

-Oh my King, please forgive me. I just haven’t been able to rest well. I am sorry to worry you. But I am fine now.

-Well, well…if that’s so…I expect of you to join me to dinner from now on. I don’t want to believe you´re avoiding your duties as my betrothed. You may go to your chambers now. Dog…get my lady to her chambers.

Sandor swiftly takes her hand and leads her way back to her chambers. Sansa keeps her pose all the way back to her chambers, refusing to let her guard down. Being the proper lady she was raised to be. Sandor tries to walk as slow as he can to keep her hand tugged to the crock of his elbow just for few minutes until he has to let her go inside her chamber. Just as they stop in front of her door…he quietly whispers to her…

-Littlebird, may I have a word with you…I need to…

Sansa fights to keep her charade on, to keep the tears from falling…gods how much she loves him. But the memory of the harsh words, the mockery of her feelings and the price he asked of her are too hard to forget.

-No more Littlebird for you, Ser. I am Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, the betrothed of your liege King. Now if you excuse me I need to get ready to dine with my beloved King. Steeping into her chambers, Sandor is left behind a closed door. Ice blue eyes haunting him.

**************************************************************

Sansa feels the floor cracking under her feet…her chamber starts to crumble over her, cold sweat covers her forehead. She cannot breath, her sight is clouded, her head pounds. Shae runs to keep her standing, and gets her close to her chair.

-My Lady…what happened?? The King hurt you again…are you hurt? Let your Shae check you.

-Not the King Shae, not the King. Sandor, I cannot bear to see him, not now that he knows my feelings for him. It is torture Shae. I promised myself not to allow him to break my mask anymore…but I am afraid I cannot. I promised you to tell what happened that day at the Godswood. Please Shae, sit down and promise me after today, we would not speak of it again.

Sansa and Shae lost track of time immersed in their conversation, until they realized the time to meet the King for dinner to be close. Hurriedly Sansa tries to soothe her puffy eyes with a cold cloth while Shae smooths her hair and brings out a new tunic to change.

A knock on the door breaks the almost serene atmosphere in the chamber and sets Sansa´s heart in a race. Gods...please not him, please not him.

-Lady Sansa, the King sends me to get you to dine with him and the Dowager Queen. Please open the door.

For the first time, Sansa is relieved to hear Ser Meryn Trant´s voice. Sansa makes an effort to pose as serene as possible and follows Ser Meryn´s lead to the King’s private dining chambers.

As soon as she is inside the dining chambers, Sansa gets a sense on apprehension running through her spine. Grey eyes staring at her, green eyes full of poison staring at her…and the hideous voice of Joffrey.

-My lady Sansa, thank you for gracing us with your presence, I was thinking of sending my dog to fetch you because you certainly took your time to obey your King´s invitation to dine tonight. Snapping his fingers to her…

-Take your seat…the dinner is getting cold, and I am sure you would not want to spoil my dinner.

Sansa is seated between Joffrey and Queen Cersei, killing her appetite instantly. She politely starts to nibble the food in her plate, trying not to displease both the King and his mother. Suddenly Queen Cersei grabs her hand faking concern…

-Little dove…I´ve been quite unease about your health. We need to start preparing your upcoming wedding to my son.

Sansa´s throat ties tight like a knot.

-But there is an issue of importance we need to take care of first. How old are you?? Faking a caress to Sansa´s cheek.

-I am six and ten, my Queen.

-Six and ten and still not flowered…how odd. I haven´t know of a girl taking so much time to flower to womanhood like you. We must have Grand Maester Pycelle to visit you. We cannot go through the wedding ceremony if you are not proven mature enough to carry a royal child in your womb.

Sansa´s faces turns to the deepest red possible…how humiliated she feels. The Queen talking of her woman maturity as talking about a breeding mare. To add further humiliation, Joffrey snorts at the Queen´s remarks and makes rude comments about her body. She doesn´t see Sandor´s knuckles turning almost white from grabbing the hilt of his sword so hard. His anger trying to conquer his stony face. How dares she to talk about the Littlebird as talking of a breeding mare? Bugger them all. He feels his blood boiling just to imagine lascivious old Pycelle touching her.

Sansa silently prays for the time to fly by as quickly as possible to ask permission to return to her chamber. She needs to talk to Shae, she needs a way to hide the fact she is already a flowered maiden. The Queen and Joffrey enjoy their dinner making comments of the Lannister troops marching against Robb´s army just to further Sansa´s discomfort. It feels like an eternity until she is dismissed by the King.

Sansa doesn´t know what to do. She cannot think of her life being tied forever to Joffrey, to think of her being summited to his whims, to bear his children, to give herself to him. Just the thought of it is driving her mind in a swirl of anguish. Shae listens to her quietly and tries without success to comfort Sansa.

Shae tells Sansa that Lord Tyrion could be of help for her. But Sansa is not fully confident of the idea. She cannot trust a Lannister, although Lord Tyrion has never treated her ill like the rest of his family. It is almost time for her to get ready to bed; Shae is brushing her long hair to a shine, trying to comfort an obviously distressed Sansa. A quiet knock on the door get both of them out of their thoughts.

-Shae who could be trying to call on me this late??? Please ask who is it and what it is the purpose? I´m really tired, I just want to sleep. Shae slightly opens the door to find The Hound standing there.

-What do you want Hound?? Shae hisses at him obviously surprised and angered by his presence.

-I need a word with your lady, wench.

-My lady is already in her bed, she doesn´t want to be disturbed, certainly not by you. Not giving him time to retort to her remarks, Shae closes the door and decides to stay for the night at Sansa´s bedside. 


	4. The Hound´s Mask Cracking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to the talented Mr. Martin. I am just an amateur writer in love with Sandor and Sansa. Happy readings!

Sandor´s life the past few days has become a living hell. He has tried to find a way to talk to his Littlebird all to naught. He tried trading his guard roles with other members of the King´s guard to get the chance to go to the Godswood as much as possible trying to catch her during her strolls. He has tried to talk to her directly out of her chamber, but her hideous handmaiden has proven to be worse than a guarding dog never leaving her side. He had to stand behind the little golden fucker while she is being humiliated by his mother and had to remain silent. He had tried to become a stone to hide his anger and frustration. The realization that he loves her, hits hard on him. He´s unable to focus and is getting desperate to hear her voice, to look into her beautiful blue eyes, to smell her delicate scent. Her last words cut him deep, making his heart to shrink. How hurtful she must be to put a charade of courtesy for him the way she did. He is responsible of her putting her mask of courtesy again. And he despises himself for it.

He has never been afraid of almost anything…only fire. But now a strange feeling of uneasiness fills his heart. He is scared of losing her, of her being tied to Joffrey. For an instant he desires to be a High Lord worthy of her, to be the knight of her songs. Wishes his scars to fade away. He doesn’t understand the strange power she wields over him. He, the one who is used to scare the hell out of people, a honed warrior of eight and twenty is scared of a maiden of six and ten.Almost reverently, he removes from his tunic hidden pocket the silk handkerchief she gave him that day. He could still smell her scent on it. He dreams of her…his Littlebird. He has to find a way to steal her away from the madness of Kingslanding, to take her far of the reach of every fucking Lannister on Westeros, if only it is to return her to her family. 

He’s pissed now, knowing even her fucking brother will use her as a political pawn in this stupid Game of Thrones and married her off to the first buggering High Lord to show. If only he could reach her, if only she would give him a chance to ask for her forgiveness. He would show her he could be a better man, just for her sake. He could try; he would do it…just for her. He, who never takes a vow, would gladly vow his life, heart and sword to her.He desperately seeks wine as a way to navigate the swirl of ideas clouding his mind. Wine is the only way he could slum into oblivion. But wine proves to be not as useful as before. Because she never leaves his mind. She is always in his mind. And the wine; the wine just makes it worse. He can imagine her blue eyes more clearly, her voice whispering in his ear, even the feel of her silky red hair between his fingers. His days pass by guarding the buggering King, hearing all the stupidity that comes from his mouth, his nights are gone in a blurry succession of wine, tavern fights and a pounding headache so stubborn to leave him be at peace. The chances of seeing his Littlebird are even more difficult. She seems absent from the throne hall lately. It a twisted way it gives him a small sense of tranquillity. If she is not summon, she won´t get hurt. 

Today is his day off…maybe he gets lucky and is able to get a glimpse of her in the Godswood. Sandor awaits and awaits, all for naught. Anger boils his blood. He desperately needs wine to get rid of this anguish knotted to his heart. He doesn’t know how many wine skins he has already drank; he just started to walk aimlessly. It´s almost the hour of the wolf, all the Red Keep is plunged in silence. 

-Oy, oy…Hound!!! Wake up you beast of a man. Shae hisses at him. What the hell are you doing here??? Shae tries to move him out of Sansa´s chamber´s door. Do you know where you are??? You might put my lady in danger because of your drunkard ass.

Sandor´s is only able to slur his words…

-My littlebirdddddd….pleeasssheeee let me see heeer. My littleeebiiiiirddd.

Shae tries to calm him down. 

-Big beast of a man…drunkard as always. Do you want my lady to be punished because of you??? Do you??? If you know what is good for her and for your head to still be attached to your neck…follow me as quiet as possible. You idiot!!!

-Areee you letting me in wenchssshhh??? To my littleeebirddd??? Sandor is starting to feel hopeful like a kid being offered a candied apple.

-Are you stupid??? Of course I´m not letting you in. I´m trying to save my lady and your stupid drunken arse. So get moving Hound, I´m not going to carry you to your barrack. Let’s go to the kitchens, maybe I can get you something to eat and sober you up.It takes Shae´s entire strength to move Sandor in his drunken state. But finally she is able to settle him in one of the kitchen benches. After feeding him some cold pieces of meat and cheese, finally Sandor starts to sober up. Quietly Shae starts to talk to him, managing to keep her anger at guard.

-Listen to me you fool…I do not know what my lady sees in a brute like you. I´m only a simple handmaid but I assure you, if you ever hurt her as you had, I will find the way to make you suffer for all the tears she has shed for you. Do you hear me??? She is in grave danger, do you know? The Queen is after something from my lady. I need to know…if you feel something for her? After all, I know what you asked of her for your help. Giving Sandor a disapproving glare. Shae´s words shame Sandor. The guilt shows in his face plainly.

-I don´t have to give explanations to you wench. If I have to render an explanation is only to my Littlebird. If she would let me speak.

-Ahhh, now she´s your Littlebird?? Don´t you get it Hound….every day that passes puts her in grave danger. I need to know if the opportunity appears, if you are willing the help her. Would you??

Sandor´s minds is a puddle, he does not know if he is being put through a test. A wrong word could end in his head being chopped off. In a blunt of the moment he says: Aye, I will spirit her away from here. Take her where she asks me to. 

-You won´t ask of her any kind of payment??

-No…I rather die first than harm her.

-Do you love her??

-Aye….I do.

Smiling to him, Shae stands from the bench and leaves him to his thoughts.

Sandor´s wakes up with a clear memory of his conversation with Shae amidst all the wine he drank in his wine drinking spree. He has to hurry; his shift to guard Joffrey is getting near. Hurriedly he changes his tunic and breeches, placing his Littlebird handkerchief in his tunic pocket. He is almost finishing putting on his armour when a knock on his barrack chamber breaks in. A page brings to him a request from the King to accompany to the Council Hall. Something is cooking….Sandor can smell it. The small council is gathering in haste. The stupid cunt of Joffrey never gets to the meetings, but this time is different. He has to follow him everywhere…today is his responsibility to guard this shit of King safety. Seven hells!

They are all seated in their big chairs, acting like the pricks they usually are…the fucking eunuch Varys, always spying everyone, Lord Baelish pretending to be a High Lord…my hairy arse Sandor thinks trying to supress a snort and the fucking Imp…being insufferable as the Hand of the King in lieu of Tywin Lannister. Seven hells, take me…Sandor thinks, this is going to be a long boring day. The good think of being considerate almost as a shadow, is that he is able to hear everything beforehand. Surprisingly, this meeting proves to be of great significance because it´s related to the impending siege by Stannis´s army and a supposed alliance with the young Wolf. Now Joffrey is angry, yelling at all of them, trying to look like a real King. Stupid cunt.

Stannis´s supposed siege doesn´t scare at all Sandor, after all, he has been a soldier mostly all his life. He is well prepared for a fight. The only thing that starts to bother him is Baelish suggestion to trap the Young Wolf by the Frey’s. If The Crown promises Walder Frey rein over the Riverlands, he is sure they could drag the entire Frey House into their side and strangle the Young Wolf´s army before they even cross The Twins. Joffrey claps and laughs at the idea and gives permission to Baelish to set a meeting with Walder Frey to lure him into their plans. Chills rundown Sandor´s spine of the idea of his Littlebird’s kin being exterminated for real. He is determined to find a way, to let her know of this and to implore her for an opportunity to prove her his loyalty only to her. If she accepts him, he will fight the Warrior made flesh and defeat him only for her sake.  
Sandor notices the Imp´s staring at him, like trying to get his attention. What the fuck?? Buggering Imp…


	5. A Trapped Littlebird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei puts her claws on Sansa....Would Sandor be able to help her?  
> All characters belong to the universe created by Mr.Martin.  
> Happy readings!

The past few days have been uneventful for Sansa, giving her a much needed rest. It has helped her to put her feelings from Sandor at bay, putting them into the deeps of her heart as a way of protection. Shae´s conversation with Sandor goes unnoticed to her, but she certainly notices Shae being preoccupied and trying to go everywhere with her. As of fear of her getting into trouble. Finally Sansa has to ask Shae what is keeping her in constant alert.

-My lady…I´m afraid the siege to the city is approaching. And if that happens, you´ll be in grave danger. If you only could listen to my Lord´s advice…He could help you out of this dammed place. He is able to provide you a trustful companion on your way to be reunited with your family. Please my lady, hear him out!!!

-Shae I don´t know…I mean…Lord Tyrion has always being polite and kind to me…but he is a Lannister. Why would he help me? My brother has his brother as a hostage. He wouldn´t risk his own blood over mine. I am afraid Shae…gods only know who´s the person he intends to accompany me if I agree to go according to his plans. Will I be safe? Would you come with me??Sansa almost could feel Shae´s heart being torn…

-My lady, I wish I could follow you to your freedom…but as I said to you, our heart chooses its beloved. And mine has chosen Lord Tyrion, if everything goes sour in this place I choose to remain at his side and let the Gods mercy help us. Please my lady, believe me, I truly wish I could follow you.  
Sansa understand Shae´s predicament…if she could freely choose…she would give all in her power to remain at Sandor´s side. Well…at least in the same place to be able to see him from afar. The heart chooses indeed.

-Shae, please let know Lord Tyrion I appreciate his effort to help me. I accept his proposition. Let him know I will oblige to what he sees fit for me to leave this place. As soon as he thinks is possible.

A knock on her door, brings both out of their whispered conversation.

-Lady Sansa, Lady Sansa…The Queen commands your presence to her solar. Open the door. 

A knot of uneasiness pulls Sansa heart. The Queen rarely asks of her. Now… why this sudden invitation? 

-Thank you Ser Meryn, I will go at once to the Queen. Shae hurries to tidy up Sansa´s hair and smooths her tunic in front of her mirror. Shae opens the door to Sansa and places herself behind of her to follow her to the Queen´s private chambers.

-Where do you think you are going wench? Ser Meryn Trant rants to Shae. You are not allowed to come with your lady.

-But I always accompany my lady…she surely needs of me.

-No she won’t need of you while in the presence of the Queen. Go back to your chores and let us go now wench. Pushing Shae aside. 

-Ser Meryn, there is no need to be rude. Sansa says. -Please. Shae, I will be fine, don’t worry.

But Shae feels in her guts…something is wrong….horribly wrong. She needs to find Lord Tyrion and let him know what is going on. Shae goes, as quietly as she can manage, to find Lord Tyrion´s whereabouts, only to run into Sandor. 

-Wench…what´s going on?? Where is the Littlebird? Why aren’t you with her? Sandor asks her looking her worried face.

-The Queen Mother as requested my lady´s presence in her solar. But something is wrong…I just feel it in my guts. Hound I need to find Lord Tyrion…he is the only one able to help her. Please help me find him.

-Aye…I will. Now I need you to go back to the Littlebird’s chamber. Do not give anyone a chance to notice what´s going on. Go now…I will find the imp.

A cold sweat runs in Sandor´s forehead, his mind starts to imagine every possible scenario, all of them ending with his Littlebird being hurt. Buggering Imp…where the seven hells are you??  
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Sansa is brought up to the Queen´s solar. Nothing looks out of place from her viewpoint.

-Little dove…come here. Sit with me. The Queen asks of her with a fake smile set in her beauty but evil face.

-My Queen. Sansa gives Cersei her most polished courtesy. I am sorry, I forgot my sewing basket. Are we going to start a sewing circle today? 

-No my dearest…I don’t commanded your presence for a sewing circle. As a matter of fact I called you because of an impending issue we need to come up in order to get you ready for your wedding ceremony with his Majesty.

Sansa starts to shiver…not fully understanding what the Queen is trying to say. -I am sorry my Queen. I do not understand…

-You see little dove…you said before you are a maiden of six and ten, and no signs of being flowered. I have asked Grand Maester Pycelle to check on you to see if you are fit to fulfill your duties to the king. It keeps running in my mind how odd this is.

Sansa´s legs betrayed her…she feels her knees giving up.

-My dear, do not fret. Maester Pycelle will only assure us if you are fit. No harm will come to you. Cersei´s lips curl in a smirk, as savouring Sansa´s uneasiness. A knock on the door announcing Grand Maester Pycelle sets Sansa into an abyss of terror. Everything starts to go in slow motion in front of her. Maester Pycelle enters the Queen´s solar accompanied by two larger stony faced matrons.

-Your majesty, Lady Sansa...Maester Pycelle greets at them…ogling at Sansa´s body.

Pycelle asks the Queen to lead them to her private chambers to perform Sansa´s exploration. Sansa´s body starts to shake out of her own volition. Desperately, she pleads the Queen to spare her this humiliation. The Queen face shows no emotion. And quietly stands up and guides them to her chambers. Suddenly Sansa is being rounded by the two matrons by her arms, dragging her behind Cersei. Master Pycelle is placing on the soft mattress a white linen and some small crystal flasks. Sansa starts to struggle with the matrons to set her free, but those women prove to be stronger. The matrons forcibly set her in her back on the feather mattress. Unceremoniously pulling her skirts above her knees and spreading her legs.  
***************************************************************  
Sandor finally reaches out the buggering Imp…he feels it has taken him ages to find his whereabouts. He´s completely covered by sweat and his face shows a deep concern. He doesn´t know if this out of his usual behaviour makes Tyrion to follow him as fast as his short legs allow him. By the time they reach the Queen´s solar door, they find it guarded by Ser Meryn Trant who doesn’t allow them entrance. Sandor feels his blood boiling in his veins; anger consumes him, he wants to slay Trant. Lord Tyrion tries to coerce Trant to let him in. Sansa´s screams can be heard out of the chamber….a murderous rage is invading Sandor´s senses. Tyrion is aware of Sandor´s mood and is able to keep him from slaying Trant. 

Sansa´s cries come to an end. Sandor cannot fight the urge to push away Trant from the door, looking at Tyrion´s silently approving eyes, shoves away Trant and open the doors. He must calm down…he is afraid of what scenario they will encounter. Tyrion stares at him as if asking him to let him take the lead. It wouldn´t be wise of Sandor to make a ruckus in the Queen´s private chambers. It would put him in a grave punishment, and then he could not help his Littlebird. When Tyrion reaches Cersei private chambers, he encounters a stone face Cersei looking down a sobbing Sansa clutching her knees to her chin while Pycelle cleans his hands with some linen cloths. The two matrons remain to both sides of Cersei´s bed.

-What’s the meaning of this Cersei??? Tyrion hisses at his sister.

-There is nothing for you to enquire brother. I asked Maester Pycelle to examine Lady Sansa. Just to be assured she´s a maiden and in good health. She will be a perfect mother of royal offspring once she is flowered. Maester Pycelle reassures me that is a matter of a few weeks for her to flower. He has records of maidens flowering late in her teens.

Tyrion cannot hide is repulsion towards both his monster of sister and Pycelle. How can they possible force her to this humiliation?? She has been through much just to add this insult to her. Trying to keep his composure, he signals Sandor to come forward. 

-Dear sister…I wouldn’t believe you capable of this. You´re proving yourself the adult version of your son. Or worse... 

-Careful brother, your words are being close to be considered treason. I will let you slip this time just because Father has made you Hand of the King in his absence. But do not push your luck. 

-Clegane, please take Lady Sansa safely back to her chambers. It is clear she is in shock and unable to get by herself. I will follow you along. In two long strides Sandor reach for Sansa and tenderly cradles her in his arms. Sandor heart is bleeding, to see his Littlebird hurt. He feels powerless, consumed by anger of not being able to protect her from harm.

He keeps her close to his chest, hoping the beating of his heart will calm her a little bit after facing this horrendous experience. He despises the Queen; he despises the monster she has nurtured. He promises himself to do whatever is in his hands to make her fly away of this rotted place. Tyrion is following in quiet. Snatching glances of Clegane´s protectiveness towards Lady Sansa, remembering Shae´s words assuring him that the fearless Hound has a weakness…he is in love with Lady Sansa. And telling him, he is the only one able to take her to freedom. Suddenly, Tyrion believes. And silently vows to make it possible for them to escape from Joffrey’s clasp. His damned family…he feels ashamed of being a Lannister.

Sansa feel like floating, a warm feeling embracing her, comforting her. She feels safe….she hears a steady beat that slowly lulls her to sleep. She doesn´t know how she reached her chambers. She is able to hear Shae rumbling in her chamber, trying to settle her in her bed, placing a cold cloth in her forehead to refresh her. She feels another presence in her chamber, a presence that radiates warm. A low husky voice comforting her, a callous hand holding her hand, calling her Littlebird. Sansa loses the sense of time…she just wants to slumber in peace. To forget the hideous hands of Maester Pycelle pocking and tugging her.


	6. Sandor´s Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret alliance is formed to save Sansa from Jofrrey´s sick games. Your suggestions and thoughts are highly appreciated!!  
> All characters belong to the Master of Games Mr. Martin. Happy readings my fellow SanSanites!

It took Shae all her strength to make him come to his senses and to make him understand he had to leave her Lady´s chamber to avoid unneeded suspicion. Sandor is pacing in his chamber fuming and lashing at all that comes in front of his way. He needs to get all his anger out, he has to find some way to let out all this rage The vision of his Littlebird looking so vulnerable enraged him beyond his limits. A quiet knock to his door takes him from his inner thoughts.

-Clegane, open the door. Tyrion´s voice comes almost like a whisper.

-Buggering hells…what do you want Imp??

- _What do you think I want?_ I´m obviously here because of Lady Sansa. Tyrion hisses outside Sandor´s chamber. I have been informed of certain issues regarding her, now open the door.

- _That foreign wench!!_ Sandor tries to keep his anger at bay and lets Tyrion in. -She needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.

-Actually, you should thank Shae for informing _us_ about Lady Sansa being held in my sister´s chambers. I think we both know Lady Sansa needs to leave King´s Landing as soon as possible. Stannis´s army marching pace is steady and the siege is imminent.

-The fuck you want dwarf? What does my LittleBird have to do with Stannis?

-Your _Littlebird…Clegane?_ Tyrion is amused by the fact of the fearsome Hound being sentimental but shakes his need to mock him. Sandor rolls his eyes annoyed.

-Your point Imp?

-I remember you calling her that way after you rescued her from the rioters. There´s no need to hide the fact you care for her, not to me at least. I understand your heart choosing of a woman outside of your reach. In other words… you clearly love her and you make it painfully obvious. What I ask of you is your help to get her out of here. To save her from my hideous nephew´s grasp and take her back to her family. She doesn´t belong here, and you know it…if she stays longer I´m afraid she won’t be able to survive Joffrey’s sick nature. You clearly care for her. I am sure you will keep her away from any harm.

Sandor is struggling to keep his mask of impassiveness, but Tyrion is able to see between the cracks Sansa has been able to open in his façade.

- _Aye_ …I do care for her. I will do whatever I can to protect her. I am willing to die for her. If you´re asking me to take her away…I gladly do it.

-Do we have an agreement Clegane??

-Aye…

-Then we must hasten our plans to get her as soon as she is able to travel. Damned Pycelle just proved my sister the purity and upcoming flowering of Lady Sansa. Stannis will be here in a matter of days. We need to use his attack as a masquerade to allow both of you safe passage out of the city. Remember, you must put an act of your desertion of the Kings guard. After all, we both know to whom your loyalty belongs. You must make it look like you´re going craven. That way we might get some time to hide the fact you´re taking Lady Sansa away.

-Aye, Imp. I will.

Tyrion leaves Sandor´s chamber as soon as their agreement is made. Sandor feels in a way relieved. From all the people he would never think to get asked from the Imp. After all, Tyrion is a Lannister. The truth is he might be the only honourable Lannister in all Westeros. He needs to be prepared; he needs to keep focus on the important task ahead of him.

But the uncertainty of his Littlebird accepting his help after the harsh words said to her, still cuts deep in his heart. He needs to show her his willingness to keep her safe, to prove to her he is capable of being honourable, just for her. Sandor feels so tired; it has been an excruciating day for both Sansa and himself. He needs to gather his strength…slowly fatigue claims him in a restless sleep. Tomorrow, tomorrow....he will do everything to take his Littlebird away from this damned place.


	7. Blackwater Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stannis´s Army impending siege is close...Sansa´s heart struggles at the idea of escaping and leaving behind her beloved Sandor and confidante Shae. Sandor and Tyrion stage his "desertion"...  
> All characters belong to the mastermind of Mr. Martin.  
> Happy readings!!!

Sansa cannot forget what Cersei has done to her…she feels violated. She cannot forget the smirk on Maester Pycelle´s face while his hands snaked up her thighs. But she also realizes the need to be brave and to get on her feet. She is a Stark, a wolf. She knows now she is not alone. She has Lord Tyrion´s promise of help, she has Shae to comfort her…she only wishes she could have Sandor´s heart to feel completed, to feel safe and whole.

She doesn´t remember how she got to her chambers…she just remembers a warm feeling surrounding her. A steady heartbeat close to her ear, nothing more. Shae has been preparing her most important belongings and storing her warmest tunics, stockings and her precious cloak…Sandor´s cloak, into bags. Lord Tyrion said she needs to be ready when the opportunity of her escape arises. She is still worried; after all, she will be travelling with a complete stranger. _What if she gets betrayed and sold back to the King?_ _Or worse_. She needs to get those thoughts out of her, if not; she would not be able to go with the plan and will be forever at the mercy of Joffrey´s whim. Whoever she is traveling with, Shae and Tyrion trusted him, so she decides to put her faith into this stranger too.

Shae reassures her she will be safe. Lord Tyrion secret escort for her has proven to be reliable and a honed warrior capable of taking care of her and away of any harm. But Sansa´s heart is mourning…leaving will mean to leave behind Sandor. Losing forever the chance of seeing him, to hear at least his harsh words. She wishes at least be able to see him one last time before she leaves.

-Shae would you help me? While taking in her fingers a small lock hair and braiding it. Please cut this braid. If everything goes as planned….would you please give Sandor this? I know he doesn´t return my feelings, but I at least want to leave him a memento of my heart to remember. Shae keeps her mind to herself and swiftly cuts her braid and knots it with a small grey ribbon Sansa hands her, tucking the auburn braid of hair inside her waistband.

**********************************************************************************************

The siege is happening; Stannis forces are close to the Blackwater shore. The entire Red Keep is in pandemonium. Servants running to all directions, ladies in waiting crying, commanders shouting orders to soldiers to gather information.

Shae runs as fast as her legs let her….Why now?? _Bugger spoiled brat_ , she thinks. _What does he want my Lady in the throne hall now??_ She needs to be ready to leave as soon as possible.

-My Lady, the King commands your presence in the Throne Hall at once. Shae nervously says to Sansa.

Sansa is scared, what if her plans of escape are known. Would Joffrey kill her to avoid Stannis getting her as a political pawn? She doesn’t have other choice, she walks hurriedly followed by Shae. She prays to the gods, to let her be safe, to let her fly away from King´s Landing before the siege is set upon the city.

Sansa walks to the Throne Hall, emptied of its usual flock of courtiers, to face the King standing in front of the Throne.

-My King, I’m here following your command. Sansa tries to keep her eyes from linger to Sandor´s direction.

-My Lady Sansa, you´re here to send me off to battle. Come closer.

Joffrey unsheathes his swords and points it towards Sansa.

-I want you to kiss my new blade…I’ve named it heart-eater. Kiss it!

Sansa slowly bends and place a kiss on the blade. Joffrey is pleased and announces to Sansa she will kiss it again upon his return with the taste of his uncle´s blood on it. Sansa cannot bite her words back and blunts at Joffrey:

-Will you slay him yourself?

A cocky Joffrey just blunt her back…-if Stannis is fool enough to come near me. Sansa cannot fight back the words pouring out of her mouth, enjoying for a split of a moment making Joffrey nervous.

-So you´ll be outside the gates fighting in the vanguard? An Exasperated Joffrey retorts at her.

\- A King doesn’t discuss battle plans with a stupid girl.

-I´m sorry your grace, I´m just a stupid girl, of course you´ll be in the vanguard. They say my brother Robb always goes where the fighting is the thickest and he is only a pretender. Instantly regretting the words, because Joffrey answers her back…-Your brother´s turn will come and then you can lick his blood off heart-eater too. Sansa tries to keep her pose.

Then the entire Kings guard sets on move following Joffrey out of the Throne Hall. Sansa´s heart cringes at seeing Sandor behind Joffrey, unable to give him a last gaze. Praying deep in her heart to the gods to keep him away of harm. Shae hands clasping her hands take her from her thoughts.

-My lady, the Queen as requested your presence in Maegor´s Holdfast, to be secured with the rest of the High Ladies and the King´s brother. I heard she also requested the presence of Ser Ilyn Payne. My Lady, keep your eyes open and be alert. If the Queen requested the presence of the King´s henchman is because she is not letting you live if Stannis wins this battle.

-Shae, what should I do?? She would not let me leave. She will have me killed.

-Don´t worry my Lady. Your Shae will find a way to sneak you out. But promise me you will run as fast as you can to your chamber. Lord Tyrion told your escort to wait for you in your chambers. Everything you need for your journey is already packed and settled for you to fly away. Promise my lady you will endure and survive. Promise you will remember your Shae. May the gods allow us to be reunited one day.

**********************************************************************************************

Sansa follows Shae to the Queen presence inside Maegor´s Holdfast. It´s evidently the Queen has been drinking. Sansa slowly manages to do a courtesy and joins a group of High Ladies and Shae remaining close to her.

-Shae I don´t know why she wants me here, she always called me stupid.

-My Lady, I don´t know, maybe she is jealous of you.

The Queen calls up Sansa:

-Sansa, I was wondering where our little dove had flown. You look pale….get the girl a glass of wine. Ordering to a handmaid next to her.

-Thank you your grace but I’m not thirsty.

-Little dove, I’m not asking you if you are thirsty, I’m giving you wine to brace yourself.

Sansa turns to watch Ser Ilyn Payne paying too much attention to her.

-Don´t worry little dove; Ser Ilyn Payne is here to defend us in case Stannis army breaks in. Believe me, you´ll be glad of his assistance if Stannis soldiers break our barriers.

A chill runs through Sansa spines. And quietly returns to seat next to Shae.

***********************************************************************************************

Sandor is in command of a small garrison of soldiers. He has taken them twice outside the mud gates of Blackwater bay, every time returning with less of them. He is sweating, covered in mud and blood from others. _Little Cunt_ , Sandor thinks, _all bragging out about commanding his troops in battle. Keep hiding yourself behind the stone walls while we bleed and die for naught._

Returning from one of the skirmish, Sandor´s eyes widen open…Fire! Soldiers ran screaming, writhing while fire consumes them. Everything stop moving around him, Sandor just feels his skin churning again, a flashback of his past,….fire…fire surrounding him. He cannot hear Tyrion screaming at him to get him out of his shock.

It takes him a few minutes; felt like ages to gather is nerves, to come over his fear of fire. Because now, his greatest fear is letting his Littlebird alone and unprotected. Sandor finally snaps and glares at Tyrion yelling at him hinting to follow and act up his supposed desertion. Yelling to a squire:

-Someone get me a drink….gulping a drink and spitting it out…fuck the water…bring me wine.

Tyrion´s says to him:

-Can I get you some iced milk and a bowl full of raspberries?

-Eat shit dwarf.

-You´re in the wrong side of the wall.

-I have lost half of my men. The Blackwater is on fire.

Jeffrey mumbles….-Dog I command you to go back out there and fight!

- _You´re a King´s guard Clegane!!!_ \- Tyrion says marking his key line for Sandor to get out of there-you must lead them back to defend the city… _your King´s city_.

Finally Sandor snarls…

-Fuck the King´s guard, fuck the city and fuck the King! Turning his back to Joffrey, leaving behind the burning shore of Blackwater Bay.

*****************************************************************************************************

The Queen has been drinking during the time they have been inside the Holdfast. Sansa has managed to sit in the farthest corner of the room with Shae, pretending to pray. Anxiety building up in her chest, just as she watches Ser Ilyn Payne pacing from one side of the room to the other. Keeping a silent guard of every movement she does, almost as if cornering a prey.

Suddenly the door opens to let in the Queen´s cousin Lancel Lannister wounded by an arrow, to give the Queen a briefing of the situation outside the Holdfast.

Shae notices both the Queen and Ser Ilyn Payne distracted by Lancel´s words. _It is now or never,_ hurriedly Shae grasps Sansa by her arm and sneak them out of the room.

-My Lady, it is now or never. You must run to your room. Do not stop until you get in. Close as fast as you can the door and bolt it. Your escort will be there waiting for you. Remember…you promised to endure and survive and to remember your Shae.

-Shae, please come with me…don´t leave me go alone. Sansa pleads to her friend.

-I can´t my lady…I must stay for Tyrion. Please understand me.

Silently Sansa nods and hugs Shae as strong as she is capable. Promising herself one day to be reunited.

-Now my Lady, run. Run and don´t look back. Shae tenderly breaks their hug and hushes Sansa away.

Sansa runs, runs as fast her legs let her, trying to get to the safe haven of her chamber, to meet with her escort. To fly away from this damned place.


	8. A Littlebird spirited away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opportunity Sansa needed to fly away from Kings Landing is in front of her...would she brace herself and fly away?  
> All characters belong to Mr. Martin. Thank you for your kind comments!!! They nurture my imagination and inspire me to keep going. Happy Readings!!!

Sansa´s heart is pounding hard on her chest, a cold sweat damps her forehead as she closes and bolts her chambers door. Her chamber is only illuminated by a dim green glow from her balcony. She cannot see clearly from the shadows. But she feels a familiar presence there, waiting for her. Suddenly…

-The lady is starting to panic...a husky voice says.

Turning herself to face the man, Sansa realizes it´s Sandor. Covered in mud, blood and dirt. She instantly is scared of him being hurt. But she reminds of her mask and refrains to reach and check if he is injured, only able to say:

-What are you doing here?

-Not being here for long…I´m going…

Sansa´s heart pumping rapidly…

-Where?

-Someplace that isn´t burning…North might be…could be. Sandor´s voice almost pleading.

-What about the king? Her quivering voice nearly breaking her façade.

-He can die just fine on his own. Sandor replies. I am here to take you with me. Take you to Winterfell. I will keep you safe.

Sandor stands up and starts to walk towards Sansa.

-You said once you wanted me to help you to go home. Here I am.

-Yes, I remember once asking your help, pouring my heart out for you. I clearly remember you _Ser_ making scorn of my feelings. The harsh words you said to me and the price you asked of me. _Are you here to collect the payment before setting me free??_ Sansa says trying to maintain her mask from falling apart. Sansa´s mind is racing to understand what is happening. _Is Sandor…no The Hound, the escort Lord Tyrion is providing her?_

-Littlebird…please…- he pleads to her -Look at me.

Sansa takes some steps back from him, scared of his next movement. Expecting of him to collect what he asked of her. Nothing happens…

Slowly Sandor removes one of his gauntlets reaching for her hand. Sansa is surprised by the auburn braid knotted to his wrist. A pleading pair of grey eyes looking to her.

-Littlebird…if you only knew…if you only knew…

Sansa cannot bear it, her eyes filling with tears cloud her sight. Her legs are starting to betray her. Sandor catches her as she is falling on her knees

- _My Littlebird_ …you are the dearest being to me, even more than my own life. I never vow myself to anyone. I am only good at killing, but now, I vow my sword, heart and life to you. To keep you safe. No one will dare to hurt you, because I will kill them all.

Almost like a whisper Sansa hear him say… _I love you_. In a breathless moment she lets his confession sink in; her eyes begin to water as the three words she longs to hear rumble from him like a song. Sansa feels the warm irradiating from his chest, not caring for the smell of blood, smoke and dirt of his armour. Surrounded by his arms…

\- I have deserted the life I always have known for you. I will not ask of you anything to disgrace you. Please if you believe me, take my hand and let us fly away from this rotted place. Time is precious, and we cannot spare any more.

Sansa´s heart is beating so fast, her legs move on their own to bring her closer to him. Sandor gently pulls her closer into his broad chest and turning her chin up close to his face places his lips to hers. Sansa´s breath is still lost when his lips descend on hers. It is everything she imagines and more. His lips are soft and unsure, as if asking for permission. She steps closer, bringing her body flush with his and reveals in the grateful moan that emanates from the back of his throat. A massive hand moves to the back of her head and angles her so he can have better access to her. She thought his scarred lips would be clumsy and numb; his lips were the opposite. Soft and warm, moving expertly against her own. Reluctantly he breaks their kiss…

-We need to leave, Littlebird. Grab hold of me, never let go of me. Close your eyes do not open them until I tell you to. I will get us out of here. I need you to be brave. Now, put on your cloak and cover your hair. Sansa grabs a green cloak that Shae let purposely at hand for her.

Sandor clasps his hand in Sansa´s, holding her tight to his side. She keeps her eyes shut as he asked. She only hears screams, the swift movements of Sandor opening their path by his sword to the stables. She feels how he sets her up on his war worse covering her with his cloak. Riding Stranger as fast as possible away. Sansa lost track of time, she only cares to keep herself clutched to Sandor´s back as strong as she is able. Her heart is burning from happiness, from joy, she is free and Sandor is with her. Finally...a Littlebird spirited away.


	9. Fly away my Littlebird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa are travelling away from King´s Landing, trying to avoid being seen. My first attempt of sexytimes...please bear with me (blushing me).  
> All characters belong to the mastermind of Mr. Martin.

Sansa cannot remember how long they have been riding on Stranger. She has been dozing on and on since their escape from King´s Landing. She feels her thighs burning; she regrets now not following Robb´s advice to learn how to ride properly. _Always trying to be the perfect Lady,_ she silently chastises her. But she will not let know Sandor she is tired. She promised him to be brave and she will endure all the hardship ahead of them. She feels worried for Lord Tyrion and Shae. They put their lives at risk for her sake. Silently prays for them to be safe of Joffrey´s wrath.

It seems like ages to her, Sandor keeps pushing Stranger to the limit, trying to get them as far as possible from King´s Landing. The dusk is setting upon them and Stranger´s pace is starting to slow down. _Poor one, he is exhausted_ , Sansa thinks. Sandor has been leading his horse away of the main road for almost two days, to avoid encountering Lannister reinforcements, peasants, everyone able to recognize them and send word that could turn them in. Only stopping to ease their bladders and let Stranger to drink and eat as quickly as possible.

-Littlebird…are you alright? Sandor asks her while squeezing tenderly her hands clutching at his middle.

-I am Sandor. Thank you for asking.

-Littlebird, stop your lady´s chirping. There´s no need off it anymore. I think we are behind those masks now.

Sansa is relieved to be riding facing his back; he cannot see how blushed her checks are. Suddenly Sandor stops and gets off Stranger, leading his horse with Sansa still up into a small clearance of land deep in the forest. They could hear a small running of water near them. Placing his hands in her small waist he sets her off Stranger´s back.

-Stranger needs to rest, we need to rest too. This place looks good enough to make our camp for tonight. We need to keep avoiding the main road; it is not wise to let us be seen. I know you´re not used to this, Littlebird. I just need you to bear it for a little while, until is safe for us to lodge in some village inn. We need to gather as soon as much information as possible. We need to know the outcome of the siege. You have to know Lord Baelish is trying to bring the Frey’s to betray your family. We must know where we are heading. If we are going to the Riverlands or up the North.

_If Stannis´s siege was successful our travel to your family will be easier._ Sandor´s heart shrieks just of the thought of it. His Littlebird will be out of his reach again.

-It is alright Sandor. I always knew Father shouldn´t trust Lord Baelish. He always made me feel uneasy. If Stannis is successful we go to Riverrun and find my family. I could manage all the hardship if it means us being together. But I must tell you Sandor, if they try to take me away from you I will not abide and I will ask you to steal me away again.

Sandor´s knuckles softly touch her cheeks and chuckles trying to suppress his bursting heart from Sansa´s words feeling pride growing in his chest.

-Aye Littlebird, I will steal you away thousand times if you ask me to.

Sansa is unable to hide her blushing cheeks

-Is my Littlebird blushing for having a scarred dog near to her?

Irritatedly Sansa´s pouts at him…-Would you please stop calling yourself a dog?? I won´t allow you to think so low of you. You are the bravest, strongest and kindest man to me Sandor. As Father promised me. Never doubt of it.

Sandor is set aback by Sansa´s reaction. His Littlebird is starting to show her inner wolf. Releasing her from his grasps, Sandor walks to Stranger´s direction and start to remove the saddles. Free from its precious cargo Stranger is free to roam over some green pastures and to quench its thirst in the nearby small creek.

Sansa starts to rummage through her bags, searching for the food supplies Shae hide for their travel. Some pieces of hard cheese, dried apples, loafs of brown bread and salted meats. This would keep them feed for a while, later on Sandor will have to hunt for small game for them to eat and Sansa would find some wild vegetables in the forest. Again she silently thanks Maester Luwin´s boring herbal classes.

Sandor needs to get his armour off to remove the grime of the battle and to oil his chainmail. He needs to keep it the best he can in case they face a treat and he is forced to fight. Slowly he starts to remove piece by piece until he is only in his tunic and breeches. Sansa tries to look to another direction, she has never been alone with a man other than his father and brothers before, and she feels anxiety and something else warming her. She pretends to search for a clean set of clothing from her bags to avoid Sandor´s muscled body mingling in her mind.

-Littlebird, there is a small creek a few paces from here. I already took Stranger for it to drink. If you like, I could show you the way and give you space for you to take care of your needs. I will give you enough time, while I brush and check out Strangers hooves. I could whistle a tune softly, for you to hear me and to know you´re safe.

-Ohh, I would love to. I need to get rid of the smell of King´s Landing. Taking her small bundle under her arms, Sansa walks to Sandor waiting to lead her way to the small creek.

-I should tell you beforehand…the water won´t be hot as you are used to bathe. Luckily the weather is being favourable to us. Do not wander too much. I need to bathe too.

_That´s perfect, now I have to pretend not to think of him taking a bath, naked close to me_ , Sansa thinks to herself.

-I promise I won´t take long.

-I forgot to tell you…do not wash your hair. We´re not lighting a fire tonight. We need to remind well-hidden as we can. Fire would set us to prying eyes. We should manage with our bedrolls for now. We will find some furs to keep us warm as the weather turns cold.

Sansa sets her bundle next to a rock slope that helps to keep her hidden, and slowly removes her boots, stockings and tunic. Sandor starts to whistle a song she remembers her brothers to laugh about. Something about a Bear and a Maiden. It never gave sense to her though. She decides to leave on her shift and smallclothes _, I just soap them on me and wash them as I bathe-_ She thinks.

The water is colder than she is used to but she starts to rub the soapy cloth in her skin trying to get the grime out. She carefully keeps her hair out of the water while with her hands rinse the soap off. Suddenly she feels something sliding through her calves. Making Sansa shriek and get out of the water as fast as she can.

Sansa´s shriek took Sandor by surprise. He runs as fast as he can, sword at hand ready to fight any attacker just to find Sansa standing out the water. Sansa´s body just covered by her almost sheer damp shift. Sandor´s throat goes dry just by the sight of her womanly curves. He has never been a true worshipper to the deities, but he hurriedly begs the Maiden to keep him at bay. Slowly turns his back at Sansa, trying to give her time to cover herself.

-Seven hells Littlebird. What happened?? You were just fine the moment I left you to bathe.

-I´m sorry Sandor. I was bathing as fast as you told me to, but I felt something skimming by my calves…I got scared. What if the creek is full of eels or snakes??? Sansa wants to stay away from the creek that she completely forgets Sandor is able to see through her damp shift.

Sandor doesn´t know what to do??? Just the sight of her almost naked figure set his blood on fire. Since meeting his Littlebird he hasn´t visited the brothels. His cock starts to twitch inside his breeches. _Traitor_. He hisses to it as talking to a person.

-It´s alright Littlebird, it´s alright. Are you dressed now?

-Yes Sandor. I am.

He leads Sansa back to their camp, trying to hide his arousal from her.

-I need to bathe Littlebird. Stay close to Stranger, it´ll be a source of protection while I’m at the creek. I won’t be away for too long.

Sandor swiftly takes off his boots, tunic and breeches. He needs to cool off, to keep at bay his growing desire. Maybe the cold water helps him out. The image of Sansa´s runs free in his mind. Her soft milky skin glittering with tiny pearls of water, the damp shift clung to her breasts and two pink little nipples crowning them. Her delicate waist followed by the curves of her hips and the blurred auburn curls covering her womanhood. Sandor´s is aching. He needs to take himself in hand. It has been so long. Slowly he starts to stroke the smooth skin of his cock, imagining Sansa moaning his name, singing to him. It doesn’t take him long to reach his pleasure. _Ahh Sansa!!!_ Still shuddering, he needs some minutes to calm himself and to finally bathe.

Sansa is getting anxious- _why is taking him so long to come back?_ She is not used to the noises from the forest; she gets scared of every sound she is capable to hear. Sandor warned her to avoid getting to close to Stranger, but the black Stallion looks so peaceful. Sansa is tempted to get close to it. Slowly, very slowly she manages to get close to it. The stallion stumps at her just to mark his standing _. Oh just as angry as your master_ , she thinks. _Maybe if I temp you with a dried apple we could become friends too._

Sandor realizes he has taken more time that necessary, leaving his Littlebird unprotected. Everything is so quiet, giving him a little sense of tranquillity. It takes Sandor a few strides to return to the camp. He hears his Littlebird humming a song…

-Buggering hell… I told you not to get close Stranger stubborn Littlebird.

Sansa´s jumps at Sandor´s rant.

-I´m sorry Sandor. I just wanted to feel a little bit more secure. You took so long to bathe. While Sansa scratches Strangers hears. I think we´ve become friends now.

- _Did you just braid his mane???_ Sandor is amused. -Stranger is a war horse, it supposed to look fierce. _You traitorous horse_ …Sandor thinks… _fucking great… first my cock…now my fucking horse._

Sandor and Sansa feel so exhausted, all the adrenaline from the escape is taking its toll on them, and they need to get some sleep. Sandor notices Sansa has laid their bedrolls side by side. Blushing covering her head to toe Sansa asks to Sandor if he doesn’t mind her sleeping close to him. She is afraid of darkness.

-I never had slept in the open, I´m scared of strange noises, bugs. _Good move,_ Sansa thinks to herself, _now you have the perfect excuse to get close to him._

Suppressing a chuckle Sandor brings her close to his chest and let her snuggle under him. Sandor has never felt as relaxed as he does now. He is amazed to have his Littlebird sleeping in his arms. Close to him.

Sansa is a mess of sensations. She could feel Sandor´s hot breath prickling her nape, his strong arms clutching her close. She feels feverish, and starts to feel a warm sensation pooling in her belly. Almost of their own her hips start to move back and forth in search of contact. Sandor is aware of her, but keeps silent, and allows her exploration _. Oh sweet torture…_

-Sandor…are you awake? Sansa whispers.

-Littlebird…we should be sleeping now. A small sigh escapes from her.

-Sandor…

-Aye…

-Would you kiss me again?

-Aye Littlebird…

Turning her to face him, Sandor stares at her eyes. He could see her eager to be touched, to explore. He slowly presses himself to her, feeling the swell of her breast flushed to his chest. His hands slowly going down to the swell of her back and is rewarded by a small moan. She is searching for his mouth, eager to taste his lips. Sweet lips tasting him, exploring him. Sansa slowly trace with the tips of her fingers his face, do not even minding his scars. Trying to get more of him, she braces herself to run her hands on his back and up. Sandor´s arousal is complete…he cannot stop moving his hips close to hers. Sansa escapes an _ohh_ realizing Sandor´s manhood against her belly.

-Sansa….please stop.

-But I thought you would like to kiss me.

Her voice sounds disappointed.

-Aye, I would like to kiss you. But then I won’t be able to control myself. Sansa, I want you more than anything...but I promise you I would not disgrace you. If you are willing to be mine, there´s no turning back. I would take you as mine and fight against everyone who tries to take you away from me. Do you understand? Sansa nods, but cannot hide her blushing cheeks.

-But Sandor, I do want to feel you…Sansa´s hands shyly travel down his waistband, tugging at his laces. Little by little Sandor´s laces give in and Sansa´s trembling fingers start to graze Sandor´s manhood eliciting from him a low groan of pleasure. She wants to learn how to please him… _please Sandor teach me…_ Sandor´s hips start to trust into Sansa´s palm as she starts to stroke his manhood tight with her hand. _How smooth his skin is_ ….Sansa marvels. Sandor is panting by the pleasure Sansa is giving him. He can almost see stars… _his Littlebird_ … _his hidden fantasy_ …Sandor feels like a green boy ready to spill himself. Unwillingly stops and tenderly removes himself from her hands. He will not use his Littlebird like a camp follower.

-I think we had enough for now Littlebird. Let’s get some rest now. Holding his raged breath and pulling her flush to his chest. Sandor allows him to place a chaste kiss on her lips, lulling into a restful sleep.

He is the one to wake up first at down. Years as a soldier have prepared him for this situation. He lets Sansa to sleep a little bit more while he tends to Stranger. They need to keep moving. She looks so beautiful, easy sleeping as she is, her braid loosen up. _His Littlebird._

Sansa slowly wakes up to find Sandor already armoured up and setting Stranger´s saddle and bags. She hurries to make herself ready the moment Sandor thinks appropriate for them to leave.

-Littlebird, we should get moving. We need to find out what happened in King´s Landing. Only then we will know which route we need to take. It will be wise if you cover your hair with a cloak while traveling at daylight. We´ll break our fast while riding.

Sansa braids her hair as fast as she can and clasps around her shoulder a dark green rough cotton cloak oversized for her. Sandor starts to rustle the leaves and dust of their camp to hide their presence. Stranger is stumping already, eager to hit the road. Sandor takes Sansa by her waist and places her in front of Stranger saddle and then with a swift move he sits right behind her, taking the reins in one hand and tenderly clutching her close to him with his other arm.

Sandor recognizes the fabric of Sansa´s cloak…but the colour is wrong. He poses his chin above Sansa head sniffing her scent. And whispers to her ear…

-My Littlebird is wearing a man´s cloak?

Giggling Sansa says back…

-I am…this is the cloak you gave me to protect my nudity. I couldn´t leave it behind. It was the only possession I have to remind me of you. Shae traded some trinkets with a washer maid to get some pigments and change its colour. So I could be able to wear it without giving up its origin. Sandor cannot believe it. She kept his cloak all this time.

They slowly set a pace of their journey, avoiding the main roads, taking refuge in deserted cottages, hidden groves, settling snares to feed themselves after the supplies ran out. And every night they settle to sleep in a tight embrace after some kisses until Sandor has to stop them from going further.

Sandor always manages to keep his desire at bay from Sansa. He madly desires her but his devotion for her is deeper, he wouldn´t dare to force her. She deserves better. _At this rate my balls will turn blue_ , Sandor thinks.

The uncertainty of their situation is starting to worry Sandor. So far they hadn’t have any trouble or being chased off. They need to get close to next village to get some information. Sansa is afraid, she doesn´t want to leave the relatively peace they have traveling through the woods. But she is also aware of the dire situation they will face. Their meagre supplies are almost non-existent. They need to get bread, hard cheese and cured meat to keep them well feed.

After a long conversation their plan is settled. Sansa will remain hidden in a small grove close to the outline of the village Sandor knows they will reach by noon. He will go to the inn and do some enquiries and if he think is safe enough for them, ask for a room in the inn to stay for a night.

Sandor makes Sansa to promise she would keep going if he doesn’t return by dusk. He will leave her Stranger in case she needs to flee. He takes off his armour and leaves on only his chainmail under his leather tunic as a protection. He sets the hood of his cloak up and leaves for the village.

Sansa feels the time passing in an excruciatingly slow pace. And anxiously starts to pray to ease her mind. Scratching Stranger´s ears proves to relax her.

***************************************************************

Sandor reaches the village inn is crowded with peasants and numerous sell swords. He doesn’t like it at all. He settles in the farthest bench available in the inn´s common room. A serving wench reaches him, clearly offering him her services.

-Off with you woman. I don´t need you! Just bring me a tankard of Ale.

-Aye my´lord. Do ya care for a bowl of stew?

-Aye..ask the innkeeper if there´s a room available to rent for a night?

-For you alone, my´Lord? The wench smirks at him suggestively.

-My wife and me. Off with you wench. Sandor growls back.

Swinging her hips to other costumers the service wench leaves to the kitchen to fetch Sandor´s ale and stew. Some sellswords are talking about Stannis defeat and the Lannister alliance with the Tyrells. Sandor hears them speak of the disappearance of the King´s former betrothed, _the stupid cunt got a new betrothed_ , and the infamous Hound desertion.

- _Fuck..fuck..fuck_ …Sandor groans to himself. He knows is a matter of time for the Lannister’s to figured out the escape of Sansa and his desertion is related. They will for sure be chased after, and if they don´t hurry up he might not be able to disclose Littlefucker´s schemes with the Frey’s to turn their cloaks over Robb Stark and The Tully´s and protect his Littlebird.

The wench brings his ale and stew and tells Sandor the inn has a small chamber available for a night. Sandor hurriedly wolfs down his meal and pays some coppers in advance for the night and tells the wench to prepare a hot bath and a small tray with stew and bread for his wife. He needs to hurry and bring in Sansa for the night. They will have to pose for tonight being husband and wife. Just for now…because as soon as possible he will wed her for real.

***************************************************************

Sansa is growing increasingly scared, the night is setting upon her, and tears start to roll freely on her cheeks. Every sound she hears startle her nerves. _Sandor, where are you? Why is taking you so long to come back to me?_ She thinks. A low whistle is heard from a far. Suddenly Stranger start to trot to its own device in a slow pace, Sansa tries to rein him over to naught.

- _Stranger, Stranger stop…please_. She tries to whisper to his ear. We must wait for our Lord. Sansa tries to plead.

-Littlebird, Littlebird…it´s alright. It´s me…Sandor. Sansa´s heart almost bursts in at hearing his voice.

-Do not fret. I´m sorry it took me long to come back for you. I needed to know if it was safe enough to bring you in. I gathered some information affecting our plans greatly. Let´s get going. You will be able to get a proper bath and a proper sleep at least for tonight. I´m afraid we cannot linger for too long in this village.

Sandor quietly pats Stranger strong neck and strides behind Sansa leading them to the inn´s stable.

-Sansa, we need to pretend be husband and wife, cover up your hair and do not speak to anyone.

Sansa nods in agreement and clutches as hard as she can to Sandor´s forearm tight to her waist. During the few minutes it takes them to get to the inn, Sandor shares with Sansa all what he heard at the inn´s common hall. Sansa cannot hide her fear just of the thought of being chase off by Lannister´s henchmen.

***************************************************************

The inn´s chamber is small but at least looks clean enough for them. A vague smell of mold assaults Sansa´s nose. But she does not let Sandor to know. After all, he is trying as hard for her to be comfortable. The chamber is provided by two sturdy chairs and a table, a bed not big enough for Sandor´s huge frame, making Sansa to suppress a chuckle. The thought of sleeping in a bed brings her to smile mischievously.

Sansa is in awe…..at last…a wooden bathtub being filled with steamy water by a pair of chambermaids, waiting for her. She cannot wait to get in the bathtub and scrub to a pink her skin. To finally wash all the dirt of her hair. To smell fresh again. And then reality hits he, there is not a screen to divide the bathtub from the rest of the chamber…she will have to bathe with Sandor _inside_ the chamber. After all they are posing as husband a wife. It would look strange to the innkeeper and chambermaids for a husband to wait outside while his wife is bathing. Sansa is torn by the desire of letting him see her naked, as she remembers her bold attempt to pleasure him that night in their camp. Just the thought of it fills her with a tingling sensation between her legs.

Sandor knocks on the door to their chamber, startling Sansa. He was tending Stranger in his stable box, the tempered Stallion tends to bite off fingers from the stable boys. So Sandor needed to check his hooves and brush him off.

-Littlebird, have you eaten your bowl of stew? You need to eat to your fill. We haven’t been able to eat properly in days. At least for tonight eat all that has been served for you.

-But you need to eat as well Sandor.

-Don´t worry I already ate while gathering information.

Sandor gazes Sansa fumbling with her bags, taking a clean change of clothes and nervously watching over the bathtub. He is so amused. _His Littlebird_ , so nervous of being seen naked and so eager to touch him just a few nights ago.

-Littlebird, you could bathe, you know. I will go to the common hall to give you privacy.

Blushingly Sansa turns to face him and says- Sandor we supposed to be husband and wife. It would look strange of you leaving the chamber while I bathe.

Sandor´s throat goes dry just of the idea of having Sansa naked just a few steps from him. The image of her body by the creek still fresh in his memory. Pretending to be busy tending his armour and chainmail he sits with his back at her. To keep his mind busy and the temptation at bay.

-Alright Littlebird, I will bathe after you. I already paid the washer maid to collect our soiled clothes to be washed and ready before we leave after breaking our fast.

He could hear his Littlebird getting inside the bathtub and humming softly. It takes all Sandor´s strength to keep him from peeping on his beautiful Littlebird. After what it seems to him like an eternity, softly Sansa taps his shoulder.

-Sandor, you should bathe now. Should I ask the chambermaids to bring clean water for you?

-It´s alright, I will use the leftover water from your bath. It still warm, I will bathe quickly. We need to get some sleep properly. We need to keep going as soon as possible.

Now is Sansa´s turn to sit turning her back to Sandor. She feels anxious; she wants to see his naked body. The memory of her hands exploring his strong abdomen and the feel of his hard manhood in her hands makes her womanhood to tingle. She needs to keep her mind occupied, so she decides to brush the knots of her hair off and to help her to dry it off.

She can hear the water sloshing as Sandor bathes… _Gods be merciful… is he naked??_ Sansa´s throat tied like a knot _._ After a few minutes, a Sandor strides back to the bed and starts to remove the coverlet to make room for them.

-Littlebird, come to bed. We need to rest.

Sansa nods and settles in the crook of Sandor´s arms and his broad chest, it has become a perfect pillow for her. Sansa feigns to sleep. Sandor steady breathing indicates her he is already asleep. She cannot get to sleep…she is consumed by the desire of exploring his body, to feel his hands on her skin.

-Sandor….

-Mmmm…

\- I cannot sleep…

-Just close your eyes…

-I tried…I think I have a fever.

Sandor has to hide his chuckle.

-If I kiss you…would you go to sleep Littlebird? I´m really tired.

-Just a kiss? Sansa says, pouting a bit.

-Aye Littlebird…just a kiss.

Searching for her face with the dim light, Sandor tilts Sansa´s face and place a chaste kiss on her lips.

-Now, sleep.

-Sandor….

-Mmmmm….

-Do you think we could try to find the village sept before leaving? Gingerly tracing her fingers on his broad chest. -I think we should get married before we leave…don´t you think? If we are going to my family I want them to understand that I am not a bargain chip to be tossed from man to man just for political gain. I want them to know that I choose you on my own volition. Because you care for me, Sansa the woman, not my titles or heritage. I want them to see you as worthy as I do.

Sandor´s throat dries up and tries to speak…but words cannot come out. His heart is full of emotions; he is not capable to manage…Love, Pride. Sensations deprived to him for so long.

-Aye Littlebird…we should.

-Alright then, good night Sandor.

-Good night…Sansa.

_He called her by her name_ ….she silently smiles and finally closes her eyes.


End file.
